


Burnout and Paper Hearts

by strawberryfrog12



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, I’m bad at tags, Jon has a meltdown, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Has ADHD, M/M, Neurodivergent Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, POV Martin Blackwood, Valentine’s Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:26:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29504082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberryfrog12/pseuds/strawberryfrog12
Summary: Martin has finally worked up the nerve to ask Jon out for Valentine’s Day, but it doesn’t go according to plan when Jon has a meltdown.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> CW-  
> *mentioned ableism from parental figures  
> * “crazy” briefly used as a derogatory phrase  
> *ignorance of neurodivergency that could be interpreted as ableist  
> *descriptions of stimming and meltdowns

Martin took a deep, steadying breath, breathing deeply from his stomach the way Sasha had shown him to calm his nerves. He could do this. It was going to go great. They’d have a good time, and maybe, just maybe, Martin could finally tell Jon how he felt. He opened Jon’s office door, which Tim had taped a large paper Valentine’s heart on, and walked in. 

Jon briefly turned to look at him as he walked in, a normal human reaction, and Martin felt his face turn bright scarlet. He was very, very aware of his cheesy novelty Valentine’s jumper, covered in neon pink hearts. 

“Hey, Jon! I was, uh, just going to ask if you wanted to get a coffee, sometime after work?” He mumbled, fearing his voice would crack if he spoke any louder. 

Jon just sat there, scribbling on a paper. Maybe he didn’t hear? 

“I said, do you want to get coffee sometime—“ Martin started, and Jon cut him off with a raised hand. 

“I heard you, Martin.” He muttered, not taking his eyes off his papers. 

Martin’s heart sank into his feet, and instead of feeling flushed with embarrassment, he felt icy cold. 

“O-oh, okay, then,” Martin stuttered, trying so, so hard to keep his voice free of emotion. “That’s-that’s a no, then? That’s okay, maybe some other time.” 

At this, Jon made the weirdest noise, the most emotion Martin had ever heard him express. It was like, a groan, but also a sob? Jon hid his face in his hands. He looked utterly miserable. 

“It’s not a no, Martin it’s a- it’s a-a…” Jon trailed off as if he couldn’t form words, his hands clutching at his hair and sometimes pulling it. “Not. Right. Now.” He finally said with great effort. 

“Are you okay?” Martin asked, less heartbroken and more shocked by Jon’s bedraggled state. 

“I-, I’m fine.” Jon lied. He was basically in the fetal posting on his chair. “I have to do...this work. I’m so close to being done. If I can just…. get there.” He grumbled through gritted teeth. He squinted at something on his paper, made a small note, and threw the pen down, clutching at his loose hair like it was a lifeline. “I’m okay. I just need...to finish this. And then I can rest.” 

Martin may have normally been a self-conscious mess around Jon, but he knew how to recognize someone in pain. 

“No, you’re going to rest right now. I don't know if you’re ill, or what, but I can’t let you keep working.” Martin said firmly. 

“No, no, I can’t stop now, I’m too close.” Jon protested, now squeezing his pen so hard it looked like I might burst. 

A sudden confidence surged through Martin, and he snatched the papers from Jon’s desk and put them on top of a filing cabinet. 

“Elias isn’t going to fire you if you don’t finish some paperwork. You’re not well.” He said calmly. 

Jon’s head twitched sideways, and he took a deep breath. “I guess you’re right.” 

“I am right.” Martin said. “Now, are you ill, are you having like, a fit, or something?”

Jon shook his head no. “This happens all the time, I just. I need to calm down.” 

“That’s a good idea...” Martin said, not understanding. “So. Do that.”

Jon’s head twitched again, and he blinked, hard, almost like a wince. “Not while you’re here.” 

“Okayyy…” Martin said, still not really getting what he meant. “I will step out, and get you some tea.”

Jon nodded a thanks, and Martin left to go get tea. He shakily filled up the kettle, worried about Jon. What on earth was happening, was he okay? He said it happened all the time, but Jon wasn’t one to take care of himself very well. 

While the tea was steeping, Martin could hear Jon faintly moving around in his office, as if he was stomping or running. Then, he heard faint music playing. It sounded like the Cure. 

When Martin returned, Jon was rocking gently back and forth, with a pair of earbuds in. His hands fiddled with a little metal object, like a shifting chain. He looked much calmer. 

“I have the tea.” Martin called. Jon jumped with a start, and shoved the metal chain into his pocket. 

“Hello, Martin. Thank you.” He crossed the room and took the tea, taking a polite sip. He looked almost totally different. He was calm, composed, and his hair even looked like it had been brushed. His voice had that dry academic tone back. The only hint of his earlier breakdown was that he was gently shaking his hands, and his eyes were red, like he’d been crying. “Please, sit down.” 

Confused as hell, frankly, Martin took a seat. Jon took his earbuds out. 

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that. That was very, ah, unprofessional.” Jon said formally. 

“I mean, not really.” Martin said sympathetically. “You weren’t— something was wrong. It’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed, Jon.”

Jon’s face lost its professional mask, just for a moment, and Jon looked at Martin like he had just saved his life, but didn’t understand why. 

“Oh,” Jon said. “So you don’t… care?” 

“I mean, no not really. I’m just glad you’re okay now.” He stared at the wood grain on the desk. 

Jon nodded.

“Can I ask, though, like, why that happened?”

A pained sigh from the man on the other side of the desk. Jon paused for a moment, as if considering, then pulled out the metal chain toy from his pocket and began to fidget with it as he spoke. 

“I assume you know what neurodivergent means?” 

“I believe so?” Martin replied, not knowing what this had to do with it. 

“Okay, well, I’m neurodivergent. I have ADHD.” Jon said softly. 

“Oh.”

“I know, I know, that’s no excuse for my behavior but that’s the why.” Jon explained. 

“Jon, you don’t have to be sorry. If anything, I should be sorry. I’m sorry for being so rude about it,I just, I don’t know much about it? My mum always said therapists and medication and mental health was for crazy people.” 

Jon laughed humourlessly. “That’s what my grandmother said. I didn’t get diagnosed until I was thirty.” 

“Jesus.” 

“It’s more common than you’d think, but that’s off topic. Let me try to explain this.” Jon began. 

“Basically, a lot of neurodivergent people experience executive dysfunction. They have trouble switching between tasks. And they’ll hyperfocus on things, even if there are other things that need to be done, like eating or resting. That’s, sort of, what happened to me.” 

Martin nodded. “So you just got so caught up in paperwork you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to?”

“Something like that. And I just, really, really wanted to reach that ‘goal’ of finishing the work. It’s like tunnel vision. I just got stuck.” 

“Okay, that makes sense. Uh,” Martin paused, wondering if this question was rude. But he wanted to know what was going on so he could help better next time. “I don’t know if this is like, rude, or anything? But why were you, sort of, twitching?” 

Jon frowned and looked away, then looked back at Martin.. “It’s not, really, it’s a valid question, in this situation. I’m just embarrassed.” 

“I mean, I’m not going to tell anyone.” Martin said. He had thought Jon didn’t care what anyone thought of him, and to see him be embarrassed was a whole new experience. 

“Gah, that’s not the issue, it’s just that, I care about— I care a lot about other people’s opinions of me. I’ll try to explain it simply.” 

“Basically, I was using self-stimulating behaviors to try to calm myself down and express my feelings. If that makes sense. It’s called stimming, usually. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“No, that makes sense, I got it. And, seriously, you don’t need to apologize.” Martin reassured him. “I’m glad you feel better.”

Jon smiled. “Thank you, Martin. That means… more than I can tell you.” 

Instead of the silence after being awkward, it was content and calm. Jon looked away from Martin, and Martin looked down at his shoes, but there was a connection there. A mutual gratefulness and understanding. 

With a bang, the door swung open. It was Tim and Sasha, very, very obviously going out on a Valentine’s date. Tim was wearing a red shirt and a goofy grin, and Sasha had heart-shaped clips on her braids. 

“Hey, boss! And Martin. Elias said it was okay to leave early, for the holiday.” Tim grinned, and it was clear Elias had said nothing of the sort. “So Sasha and I’ll be leaving.” 

Jon froze and nodded quickly, looking like a cat caught staring at a fish bowl. “Have fun, Tim. And Sasha.” Sasha gave a little wave as Tim grabbed her hand and they both rushed out of sight. 

Martin smiled fondly. “I know leaving work early is one of Jon Sims’ seven deadly sins, but they do make a cute couple, you have to give them that.” 

Jon laughed. “I’ll allow it. Since it is a holiday.” He stood and grabbed his coat. “And I may take you up on that offer for an early coffee break. Lord knows I could use some.” 

Martin gaped at him. “Seriously?” He played up the joking confusion, but he was elated. The idea of a coffee date with Jon made him feel giddy. 

“Yes, seriously. As long as you promise to come on early tomorrow.” Jon deadpanned. 

“Oh—“ 

“A joke! A joke! I promise I’m not that awful.” Jon reassured. “D’you want to walk somewhere? It’s not terribly cold.” 

“Uh, yeah, that sounds good! I know a place, just let me get my coat.” Martin said, and resisted the urge to sprint for his jacket. He felt guilty for being so obtuse with Jon, but clearly, he hadn’t minded. Martin Blackwood was going on a coffee date with Jon Sims, on Valentine’s Day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Martin’s coffee date! From Jon’s POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW-  
> *internalized ableism  
> *self esteem issues  
> *ableism  
> (making fun of speech patterns and auditory processing issues)  
> Let me know if I miss any content warnings!

Bundled up in his coat, Jon set out with Martin to walk to a nearby cafe. Jon felt like he should say something, to show his appreciation for Martin’s help, but he just wasn’t good with feelings like that. He hoped that he could return even a small portion of the favor by spending this afternoon with Martin. At least, that was how he framed it in his mind. It was NOT a date, because dates were scary and had a million unwritten social rules that Jon could never remember. No, it was just a nice outing with a good friend. 

All around them, couples were holding hands and grinning as they walked to and from their respective dates. Jon froze. Did Martin expect him to hold his hand…? He shot a quick glance at his companion, but Martin was looking at the pigeons, and didn’t seem to expect anything. Good. Good. He didn’t think he could stand any more vulnerability today. 

Jon tried to not feel ashamed, but he felt so guilty for freaking out on Martin like that. God knows why Martin even wanted to be in the same room with him after that stunt. It wasn’t Jon’s fault, obviously. He’d just gotten to a breaking point with stress and exhaustion, and his sensory issues. But there was no changing how his brain was wired, a constant stream of contempt and shame funneled into it by his family and peers since he was a kid. 

“Jon! Hey!” Martin shouted, putting a hand on his shoulder. Jon had almost walked out into the road. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m okay.” Jon said awkwardly. “Just. Thinking.”

“Do you need to take a break?” 

Jon shook his head, trying to hide his red face. He couldn’t believe Martin was being so kind to him.

“Okay, just let me know. You’re gonna love this cafe, it’s not too far away now.” Martin gushed, his eyes lighting up. “It’s basically like- actually, I’ll let it be a surprise. But I think you’ll like it.” 

Jon smiled. “I’m sure I will. Thank you for this, Martin.” And he meant it. He couldn’t really verbalize it well, even to himself, but just the fact Martin had said YES to the outing, even after seeing him at his worst, made him feel… human, for once.

“Of course.” And Martin gave him another clumsy pat on the shoulder. 

When they arrived, Jon immediately saw what Martin had been so excited about. It was a cat cafe. Jon couldn’t help it. He did a little full body shake of happiness and excitement. He’d always wanted to visit one, but had been way too embarrassed to go on his own 

“Oh, my God, this is perfect.” Jon said to Martin. “How did you know?” 

Martin smiled sheepishly. “Sasha may or may not have helped me out and found your old Facebook page. There were a LOT of cat videos.” 

Huh. Apparently Sasha’s hacking skills were not exclusively used for archive work. “O-kay then,” Jon said. “Remind me to delete that when I get back.” 

Martin laughed. “The damage is already done. Tim saw it too.” 

“Oh, Lord.” He’d never hear the end of that. 

“It’s okay, Jon. I-I think it’s kind of sweet.” Martin mumbled. “You have a soft side.” He teased. 

Jon wanted to come up with a clever retort, but couldn’t think of one, so he settled on raising his eyebrow in Martin’s direction. 

“Are we going to go pet these cats or not?” 

“Yes, yes, I’m coming.” 

When they walked in, Jon was immediately targeted by a large calico cat that brushed up against his ankles and nearly tripped him. 

“Aw, he likes you!” Martin said. 

“He wants me to break my neck, more like.” Jon said, and gently nudged the cat out of the way. “But he is pretty cute.” 

The cafe was a perfect place to calm down after a meltdown. It wasn’t crowded, surprisingly, and the lights were dim. The place smelled of coffee and caramel. Not to mention the cats. Furry puffballs walked in pairs on the floor and lounged on the abundance of cat trees. Hidden in his pockets, he allowed himself to wiggle his fingers a bit, not really wanting to stim in front of Martin anymore than he had to. 

“What do you want, Jon?” Martin asked, pulling his attention away from a large ragdoll whose ears he was scratching. 

“Um, let me see.” Jon walked over to look at the menu, and immediately regretted it. There were so many options, all in tiny, single spaced print. It was a nightmare to even read, much less process enough to make a decision. 

“I, uhhh…” Jon stared at the menu, desperately trying to get his mind to comprehend the blur of minuscule text. “Do you have…iced…coffee?” He ventured. 

The cashier quietly laughed at him, a rude looking smile on their face. “Uhh…. yeah… we…do.” They mocked. “Can you not read, man?” 

“Um, yes, I can read just fine.” He said. Ouch. That hurt. Immediately, his cheery mood began to fade. The dim lighting suddenly seemed too dark, and the cozy cafe much too small for his liking. He could definitely feel himself starting to become overwhelmed. 

“Alright. What do you want in that? We have—“ and the cashier listed off what must have been twenty different flavors, creamers, syrups, and toppings, so quickly Jon didn’t have any time to process what they’d said.

Uh oh. 

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Jon said, fighting to keep his voice level, with just the right amount of politeness. “I didn’t understand you.” 

“Jesus,” the cashier whispered under their breath. “Are you deaf, too? I SAID—“ and they rattled off the same list, barely even slowing down.

Jon did a frustrated head shake and shut his eyes, shutting out the rude cashier. He didn’t WANT to have to do this, but obviously, this cashier wasn’t going to work with him. He summoned his courage. “Hey, Martin?” Jon called. Martin walked over from where he’d been playing with the cats. 

“Ye-ah?” He said slowly, clearly noticing the tension between Jon and the cashier. 

“Can you please repeat to me what the drink options are? I can’t-I can’t really process it right now.” Jon admitted. It felt horrible, having to ask for help. 

“Oh, of course.” Martin obliged. “Can you please repeat yourself?” He said to the cashier. The cashier begrudgingly did, and Martin repeated the options back to Jon. 

“Thank you.” Jon said, and ordered a black coffee with caramel creamer. Martin ordered a London fog latte, and they began to look for a table. Martin asked him where he wanted to sit, and Jon froze. This one little choice was about to be the thing that pushed him over the edge, he could tell. 

“Please, choose for me. I can’t make decisions right now.” Jon said, almost desperately.

Martin gave him a thumbs up, and chose a roomy table in the corner, fortunately away from the sight of the rude cashier. Jon took great care to detect exactly how far apart Martin was comfortable with them being. The acceptable distance seemed to be about a foot. 

“Man, I’m sorry about that cashier, Jon.” Martin whispered. “They were absolutely awful.” Jon shrugged. 

“It’s okay.” He said. “I try not to let it bother me, really. I just- I’m still really overwhelmed. I’m sorry I asked you to be my translator.” Jon had a hunch that maybe this wasn’t something he was supposed to apologize for, but he truly did feel bad. He was ashamed too. He felt like he was acting like a child. A big fear of his, actually. What if Martin stopped liking him because he was too immature? It would definitely be very weird if Jon made Martin navigate every social situation for him. 

“Jon, I think we’ve established you don’t need to apologize for this stuff.” Martin said. 

“Ah, I know, I just- I feel bad for making you take care of me like a child.” Jon muttered, surprised he even had the guts to say it out loud. 

Martin adopted a serious expression, and stared Jon in the face, his voice earnest. 

“Jon, no. Do not say that. I know you’re not doing this on purpose.I promise, you’re not making me. And I understand that you’re an adult who just needs— some extra help. And I’m perfectly happy to give that help.” 

Jon smiled, almost sighing with relief. Martin didn’t think he was immature or weird at all. “Thank you, Martin. That means a lot.” 

“Of course, Jon.” 

They finished their drinks and left the cafe, Jon feeling much better. So much better, in fact, Martin had to talk Jon out of flipping the cashier off on the way out the door. 

“They’re not worth it, Jon!” Martin had half-yelled, half laughed, after Jon had jokingly presented the idea to him. 

“I should’ve just stolen one of the cats. That’d show them”. Jon grinned. 

“Well, I can see you’re definitely in a better mood now.” Martin said, as they walked back to the Institute to retrieve their respective cars. 

“Very much so.” Jon said. Then he smiled. “Thank you, for this, Martin, seriously. I had a really good time.” 

Martin beamed. “I told you! I knew you’d like it.” 

Jon paused for a moment, then got a burst of courage. “Maybe we can do it again, sometime.” He said quietly. 

Martin froze for just a second, and then smiled. “I would like that very much.” 

When they arrived at the Institute, Martin and Jon both paused before they walked to their cars. Jon knew Martin was waiting to see how Jon would choose to say goodbye to him, and Jon was waiting on the same thing. They stood there for a moment, anticipation hanging in the air as a light rain began to fall. 

Finally, Jon took the plunge, and initiated a very polite one-armed hug, which Martin almost immediately turned into a bear hug. Jon gasped, partly because Martin was a strong guy, and was gently crushing his rib cage, but also for the very obvious reason that Martin Blackwood was hugging him on Valentine’s Day after they’d spent the afternoon at a cafe alone. 

“Ah, Martin? My ribcage, please.” Jon wheezed out after a few seconds.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry!” Martin released him. 

“Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

A pause. 

“Uh, hi, Jon?” 

“I’m still right here, Martin.”

“Can I give you a kiss on the cheek?”

Jon choked, glad Martin couldn’t see how shocked he looked in the dim parking lot. 

“Uhhh… yeah.” And Martin did so. His hair smelled like coffee. 

Martin stepped away. “Goodnight.” He said simply. 

“Goodnight!” Jon said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. 

Martin gave him a wave and walked back to his car. 

Huh. Not a bad ending to somewhat shitty Valentine’s Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback are greatly appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Shamelessly including the Cure because 10:15 Saturday Night is my go-to comfort song 
> 
> Constructive criticism and feedback is appreciated!


End file.
